


Experiment 221(b): Diverting A (Flat)Mate

by wechoosewhatwearesammy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 06:07:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wechoosewhatwearesammy/pseuds/wechoosewhatwearesammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Someone forgot to pay the heating bill" Sherlock said, without opening his eyes, or moving in the slightest.<br/>"Ok, so....We'll just have to keep each other from freezing our arses off til Monday?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Experiment 221(b): Diverting A (Flat)Mate

Day One: Friday

John trudged up the steps. It had been a long day at the Surgery, the monotony of his daily wore on his patience. He sorted through the post as he entered the sitting room, without looking up. 

"It's a bit...." He trailed off, as he glanced up. Sherlock was lounging on the sofa, wearing his usual pyjamas and blue dressing gown (which John had dubbed "The Sulking Gown"). But on top of the dressing gown, he wore John's Aran cabled jumper. For all John's gaping and stuttering, Sherlock had not noticed his presence, - or so it seemed. 

" _Someone_ forgot to pay the heating bill," Sherlock said, without opening his eyes or moving in the slightest. 

"Someone?" John repeated, without thinking. 

Sherlock sniffed, affronted. 

John laid the post on the desk, nodding to himself. "Right well, we'll call and get this sorted"

"It's after hours on a Friday, _John_ " Sherlock sighed, as if this should have all been obvious. 

John went over to the sofa, scooping Sherlock's feet up, and plopping himself down, easing his flatmate's feet into his lap. "Ok, so....We'll just have to keep each other from freezing our arses off til Monday?" 

Sherlock grunted as he flopped onto his side, trying to hide his face as he grinned into the cushion. 

"John....John....John!"

John had fallen asleep on the sofa, with his coat on. Now he was being shaken awake. "Hmm?" He mumbled, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

"Are you even listening?" Sherlock was sitting cross-legged, looking at him expectantly. 

"Mmm, yeah yeah" John shook his head a bit to try to clear the fog of sleep. 

"I've done some research" 

"Oh, naturally"

"It said to close off as many rooms as possible to stop air circulating, to reduce heat loss"

John nodded along as Sherlock spoke, it made sense. 

"So I was thinking.....you should sleep in my room tonight"

John's mouth dropped open, then closed into a thin line. Seeing his hesitancy, Sherlock stumbled onward with his explanation. 

"It would be purely for warmth - body heat. I'm sure we can figure out something agreeable"

John grinned widely down at his feet, and looked as if he were biting his lip to keep from laughing. This was not the reaction Sherlock had anticipated. 

"What is it? Why are you smiling like a idiot?" 

"I'm relieved! I thought you might propose starting a fire in the kitchen, and using the furniture as kindling!" John slumped over on the sofa, laughter muffled into the cushion. 

"Hmm, I'll file that idea for later use" Sherlock said, heading toward his bedroom, in a twirl of his dressing gown. 

"Sherlock, no! It was a joke!" John sobered quickly, and jogged after him. His steps slowed as he neared Sherlock's bedroom. Sherlock's back was to him, he'd already removed the jumper, and was shrugging off his dressing gown. John stopped, and though he wasn't sure why, he held his breath as he watched the silk material gracefully fall from his friend's shoulders. Sherlock turned his head, and caught sight of John in the corner of his eye, glancing up at him. John looked away quickly. 

"So, um.....how are we.....?" He gestured to the bed, then awkwardly between the two of them. 

Sherlock turned toward him, straightening his pyjamas. "Concerned that I will take advantage of you in the cover of night, John?" His voice sounded offended, but he wore a playful smirk. 

John let out a half laugh, realizing how silly his reservations were. "No. No, of course not." He walked around to the far side of the bed. Sherlock slid beneath the covers, and got himself comfortable. Seeing John was still hesitating, he said, "You can sleep on top of the sheet, but under the rest of the covers. I'll be under the sheet, so there will be a barrier of sorts between us. If that will make you feel more comfortable" He pulled back the top blankets, leaving the sheet down. 

John chuckled nervously, "Right, ok." He laid carefully on top of the sheet, sure to keep a comfortable space between them, and tugged the blankets up to his chin.

John stared up at the ceiling for a long time,losing track of the time, the quiet hum of London outside. Slowly the nervous feeling prickling down his spine melted away, and he allowed himself to close his eyes. Sherlock shifted on the bed beside him, letting out a sigh. John refused to look over at him, though he was desperately curious what the man looked like comfortable. Relaxed. _Vulnerable_. A thrill ran through him, and his eyes peeked open. 

Sherlock was on his side, facing John. His ebony curls had flopped onto the pillow, looking iridescent in the dimness of the lamppost outside. An errant curl fell over one eye, and John felt the corner of his mouth quirk upward. He allowed himself the luxury of looking at Sherlock, _really_ looking at him, without having to worry about his, or anyone else's reaction. He watched Sherlock's eyelids, eyes fluttering softly behind them, those long, dark lashes made him look so angelic. His eyes traveled down the curve of his nose to that mouth. John swallowed as his eyes drank in the plumpness of that supple cupid's bow. A strange feeling came over him as his heart quickened. With agonizing slowness, he reached out to cup Sherlock's cheek, gently so to not wake him. An electric feeling crawled up the skin of his arm. 

Sherlock's eyes opened slowly, searching John's face. John felt that he should snatch his hand away guiltily, but he couldn't bear it. Finally, Sherlock's eyes settled on John's, and John had never felt more exposed or more intimately acquainted. Sherlock leaned in, and gave him a ghost of a kiss. Sherlock's top lip caught lightly on John's bottom lip as he pulled away. John swallowed a lump in his throat. 

"Sherlock, I ... I can't...." He whispered. Sherlock tried to keep his face neutral, but John knew him well enough to know that the tiniest furrow of his eyebrow spoke volumes of hurt. "Not yet....I just...... _not yet_ " 

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, then sighed. "I can wait, John."


End file.
